


Heinous

by plain_jane08 (awolfling)



Series: All encompassing [9]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awolfling/pseuds/plain_jane08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I just got an email from my doctor back in Jersey, he says that he’s no longer willing to write my prescriptions without me being an actual patient,” Danny explains, a wave of dread washing over him.</i>
</p><p>For Sabbybrina, my Hurt/Comfort soulmate, who wanted Danny to have a colonoscopy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heinous

Steve walks into Danny’s office and finds him scowling at his computer screen.

 

“Shit,” Danny says, reading his email. He clicks his mouse angrily.

 

“What?” Steve asks, concerned.

 

“I just got an email from my doctor back in Jersey, he says that he’s no longer willing to write my prescriptions without me being an actual patient,” Danny explains, a wave of dread washing over him.

 

“So?” Steve asks, “You just need to find a doctor here. I mean, it had to happen eventually.”

 

Danny shakes his head, “Ok, first of all, finding a doctor who will actually treat me and not just try to send me to a shrink is hard enough, and then there’s the expense involved!”

 

“Danny,” Steve sighs, “We’ve got good medical at 5-0 and we have more than enough money for the excess.”

 

“It’s just annoying that I have to go through all this again!” Danny rants, “It was bad enough the first time! It took me years to be diagnosed properly!”

 

“I know, babe,” Steve says, standing behind Danny and squeezing his shoulders in reassurance, “Look, maybe Kono’s friend can give us her doctor’s number? At least then we know going in that they’ll at least believe you.”

 

“Yeah,” Danny says, leaning back into Steve, feeling a bit calmer, “Ok, at least that’s one thing.”

 

Danny still has his reservations and he’s angry at the inconvenience, but at least the anxiety over not being believed will hopefully be bypassed. If Kono’s friend says her doctor’s cool, then he’ll take her word for it.

 

+

 

A week later Danny heads to his appointment with the Gastroenterologist that Kono’s friend uses. Steve goes with him for moral support, even though Danny argued that he could do it alone and that Steve should just go straight on to work. In truth, Danny’s glad for the company and he almost asks Steve to come in with him, but the doctor is a white guy in his early sixties and Danny’s instinct is that asking his boyfriend to come with him would negatively affect the view the doctor has of him. He feels more like he’s been sent to the principal’s office rather than visiting a doctor.

 

The doctor introduces himself as Mark, which puts Danny a little at ease. Danny explains his situations, that he’s already been diagnosed with IBS and just needs a script for his meds. Mark asks him the routine questions about his symptoms, whether he’s identified his trigger foods, the whole shebang and Danny does his best to not get defensive. He knows the doctor’s just doing his due diligence and not once does he show signs of judging Danny or not believing him.

 

“Do you have any trouble with anxiety?” Mark aks finally.

 

“A little, I mean I could piss outta my ass at any given second, so I’d say I have reason to be anxious,” Danny snarks with a self deprecating smile. He’s warmed to Mark a little, “But overall, I wouldn’t say it’s an issue.”

 

“Alright,” Mark says, shuffling some papers on his desk, “The symptoms certainly indicate Irritable Bowel Syndrome and I trust your doctor back in Jersey knew what he was doing, but I’m going to schedule you for a colonoscopy just to be safe.”

 

Danny is silent for a moment. 

 

“Excuse me?” Danny says, hoping the doctor is messing with him.

 

“It’s my policy to leave no stone unturned and I’m not comfortable prescribing medication until I’m absolutely sure,” Mark explains patiently.

 

“So you’re saying you’re not sure?” Danny says, trying to keep calm and failing, “After hearing about all my symptoms and the fact that I have  already been diagnosed,  you’re not  sure? ”

 

“Mr Williams, I understand your feelings, but there are other illnesses that have similar symptoms and they need to be ruled out first,” the doctor says firmly.

 

Danny feels about ready to scream. A colonoscopy is not something he wants to go through and his doctor back in Jersey had spared him that, explaining to Danny that the new criteria for diagnosing IBS didn’t necessitate one. Pain or discomfort for three days per month, persisting for three months, and associated with change in stool form and frequency. Danny would love to meet only the minimum requirement; only three days a month would be bliss compared to how he’s living now.

 

“There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” Danny asks, knowing that straight up fighting with the doctor isn’t going to benefit him.

 

“You’re welcome to try and find another doctor who will prescribe your medication,” Mark says calmly.

 

And ain’t that the kicker. This guy came recommended by someone who has already gone through the pain of trying to find the right doctor. Danny’s almost out of meds and the time and money it will take to find another doctor who will help is too big a price.

 

“Fine,” Danny says grudgingly, “When can you fit me in?”

 

Mark smiles and set up an appointment for the following week. He talks Danny through the prep and what to expect from the exam.

 

“You want me to take a laxative?” Danny asks incredulously.

 

“Your colon needs to be completely clear in order for me to examine it,” Mark explains.

 

“You remember I already have a problem with diarrhea, right?” Danny says. He’s had to use laxatives a grand total of once and it was a highly unpleasant experience.

 

“I am aware, that’s why I’m suggesting one day instead of three,” Mark smiles like Danny is being funny.

 

“Ugh,” Danny scoffs his lack of appreciation, “Fine.”

 

“I’ll see you next week, then,” Mark says, standing and reaching out to shake Danny’s hand, “Remember, only liquids for twenty-four hours before the procedure and nothing red or purple coloured.”

 

“Yeah, I got it,” Danny grumbles. He’s being petulant, but he’s pretty sure he’s earned the right. In a week’s time he’s going to have a camera up his ass.

 

In the waiting room Steve stands as soon as he sees Danny.

 

“You were in there a while, you get your script?” Steve asks with a smile, leading Danny out of the office with a hand on his back.

 

“No,” Danny moans, “That asshole wants a colonoscopy before he’ll prescribe the stuff I need.”

 

“Ok,” Steve says, like it’s no big deal.

 

“It’s not fucking ok, I’m going to have a camera shoved up my ass next week!” Danny waves his arms for emphasis.

 

“Well it is a very photogenic ass,” Steve smirks.

 

“Do not,” Danny hisses, “This isn’t a fucking joke.”

 

+

 

“You were right,” Steve says as Danny comes out the bathroom for the tenth time that morning, “This isn’t a joke.”

 

Danny has taken his first dose of laxative early, along with a glass of apple juice. Less than two hours later it had kicked in and he’s been making trips to the toilet ever since. The pain is some of the worst he’s ever experienced and it’s making him look pale and drawn. Danny hugs Steve, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder and feeling utterly pitiful. He’s only a few hours into this day of hell and already he wants to give up, cancel the appointment and just go without painkillers. Except obviously that’s not an option if he wants to function ever.

 

“Come on, let’s watch some tv,” Steve suggests, “There’s some gatorade on the table.”

 

“Maybe if I don’t drink anything my body won’t be able to produce anything anymore,” Danny groans.

 

“You know being dehydrated will just make you feel worse,” Steve reasons.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Danny sighs.

 

Sitting down makes Danny wince. Squishing his stomach is not at all pleasant and the skin of his ass is already raw. If this carries on like it has been, Danny’s sure he’ll be bleeding by the end of the day.

 

“Here,” Steve says, handing Danny the bottle of gatorade.

 

As much as Danny wants to do anything to limit the amount of diarrhea he has, he knows Steve is right. Plus, he’s already really hungry and hopefully drinking something will trick his stomach into thinking he’s eaten something. It’s making him extra grumpy, that burny pain like an ulcer in his stomach and the accompanying heartburn. He’s only missed one meal so far.

 

The rest of the day is hell. The diarrhea doesn’t let up and he gets hungrier and hungrier, despite the extreme pain he’s in. His prediction was right and he finds spots of blood on the toilet paper by the afternoon. Danny exchanges the couch for the bed, where he can lie on his side and not put pressure on his bum. Steve is clearly stressed and it makes Danny feel worse. They’re both helpless in this situation, but Danny knows it’s more difficult for Steve to face a problem he can’t solve than it is for Danny.

 

“I’m sorry, Danno,” Steve says, stroking Danny’s hair.

 

“It’s ok,” Danny mumbles. He’s exhausted from all the pain and the trips to the bathroom and Steve playing with his hair is making him sleepy. His stomach gurgles threateningly.

 

“No it’s not,” Steve says in a low voice that usually spells trouble and excessive force for criminals.

 

“It’s only until tomorrow,” Danny says, but he knows he sounds flat. While no longer being under the influence of laxatives will certainly be a good thing, his IBS isn’t going away and he’s had flare-ups like this all on his own, no laxatives involved. 

 

“I want to kill your doctor,” Steve says, still combing his fingers through Danny’s hair.

 

“No you don’t, then all of this will have been for nothing,” Danny replies.

 

“There is that,” Steve capitulates, “At least try and get some sleep, babe.”

 

Danny doesn’t need telling twice and he falls asleep to the feel of Steve’s fingers raking through his hair.

 

+

 

When Danny wakes it’s dark out and his stomach has resumed it’s cramping. He rushes to the toilet wondering how the fuck his body is still doing this to him when the last time he ate anything solid was supper the previous night. The pain dissipates some when he’s finished and that’s when the hunger hits Danny like an avalanche. It feels like there’s a gnawing, gaping hole in his abdomen and he’s embarrassed when tears leak from his eyes from it. He wipes angrily at his face and clear his throat. There’s a deep sense of desperation welling up in him, a whirl of anger and frustration. The last time he was this hungry he was lying on the floor of a warehouse, kidnapped and not sure if he was going to make it out alive. At least then he had the fuzziness of a concussion to take the edge off. Danny’s head throbs as if on cue, but he’s sure it’s more to do with hunger than memory. 

 

Danny goes downstairs and finds Steve doing dishes.

 

“Hey,” Danny says a little croaky.

 

“Hey babe, how you feeling,” Steve says, looking at Danny over his shoulder.

 

“Crappy,” Danny says, and it’s a huge understatement.

 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, drying his hands and then pulling Danny into a hug.

 

“I ate while you were asleep, I thought it would be easier on you,” Steve says.

 

“Thank you,” Danny responds, grateful that he did not have to see or smell food.

 

Danny break away from Steve with a deep sigh and grabs another bottle of gatorade from the fridge, not looking at any of its other contents. Danny drinks it quickly, like somehow that will shock his stomach into shutting up. When he’s done he feels queasy and that’s actually a little better than what he was feeling before. Steve convinces Danny to watch a movie before bed, something mindless but distracting. Danny makes it through the whole movie without having to go to the bathroom and he dares to hope that the worst is over. 

 

Later, in bed, Danny apologetically tells Steve not to touch him, that between his sore ass and stomach there is no way they can lie together and have Danny still be comfortable. Steve understands, doesn’t complain or make Danny feel bad. It takes Danny ages to fall asleep, unable to touch Steve when all he wants is the comfort of his closeness. From his breathing, Danny would guess that Steve doesn’t fall asleep easily either.

 

Danny wakes in the middle of the night with sharp cramping guts. He hates that this kind of thing is familiar. Stumbling to the toilet in the dark, blurry with sleep and pain. It hurts even worse thanks to his raw skin and Danny has to take several deep breaths. He’s lucky that his body is finally catching up with the fact that he hasn’t eaten, so it doesn’t take long. Danny isn’t sure he can withstand anymore pain and even wiping himself is excruciating. He flushes the toilet and chokes back a sob. Crying will just make him feel worse. Except willpower isn’t enough this time and soon he’s holding his hand over his mouth, trying not to make a noise as tears stream down his face.

 

He’s too tired and too sore and too fucking hungry. He’s so sick of this goddamn illness and all the fucking complications it causes. Most of all he hates feeling like he’s out of control, his body, his emotions. It’s all a damn mess and there’s nothing he can do to stop the flood of desperation and hopelessness. He’s so scared about tomorrow and he hasn’t admitted it to himself until now. He doesn’t want to face the indignity of the whole thing, a camera filming his insides and some man looking at him on a monitor. This stranger having to touch him in places he’ll only allow Steve, and he’ll see the red rawness of Danny’s ass.

 

There’s a knock on the door and Danny jumps about a mile high.

 

“Fuck,” Danny says tearily, grasping at his chest where his heart is pounding.

 

“Danny?” Steve sounds worried, “I’m coming in, ok?”

 

Danny doesn’t respond because he’s still crying, can’t bring himself to form the words, not even sure whether he wants Steve to come in or not.

 

Steve waits a few seconds, probably in case Danny told him not to before opening the door. Light streams in and Danny flinches away from it. Then Steve’s there, sweeping Danny towards him and wiping the tears from his face.

 

“Danny, babe, what’s wrong,” Steve says frantically and Danny wants to tell him not to make a fuss, that it’s just making things worse, but he just shakes his head. He can’t speak.

 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Steve says, making an effort to sound calmer, “It’s ok, just take deep breaths. I’ve got you.”

 

Steve’s words and his hands running up and down Danny’s back help. He manages to take a breath and the tears slow a bit. Danny leans into Steve, wrapping his arms tight around Steve’s chest. A life preserve in the stormy sea that Danny let himself become.

 

“I’m sorry,” Danny gasps, still trying to control his tears.

 

“It’s ok,” Steve says reassuringly, his voice low and steady, “Just breathe.”

 

Danny does as he’s told and find the tears slowing. Steve’s t-shirt is wet against Danny’s face and he can hear the beating of Steve’s heart in his chest, much faster than his calm voice would indicate.

 

“Now, tell me what’s going on, babe,” Steve says, rubbing Danny’s back.

 

“I’m sorry,” Danny says again, “I’m freaked about tomorrow and this day has just sucked so much. I’m so sore.”

 

“I wish there was something I could do,” Steve says, heaving a shaky breath.

 

“You do so much already,” Danny responds.

 

“I’m coming in with you tomorrow,” Steve says decisively, “You’re not going through that alone, ok?”

 

“Ok,” Danny says gratefully. 

 

“Come on, you’re freezing, let’s get back to bed,” Steve says.

 

Danny only notices the goose bumps then and his cold-numb feet. Getting back into bed feels amazing and Danny wraps himself around Steve, pain in his ass and stomach be damned. Steve holds him close and Danny warms up quickly, rubbing his feet against Steve’s. Sleep comes gradually.

 

+

 

Danny is all nerves in the morning, but feeling more in control than he did last night. He’s had no more diarrhea and that’s a good thing at least. Steve is a solid supporting presence and it helps. The appointment is early, much to Danny’s relief. He just wants it over and done with. He jiggles his leg as they sit in the waiting room and he doesn’t even bother trying to read a magazine, too hyped up. Steve holds his hand, running his thumb over Danny’s knuckles.

 

Mark greets Danny with a smile and shows him and Steve to the procedure room. He doesn’t comment on Steve’s presence or show any uncomfortableness. Good. Danny’s not sure how he’d handle dealing with homophobia on top of everything else.

 

Mark sets him up in a room and explains what to expect; that he’ll need to change into a gown, they’ll give him a sedative and then he’ll lie on his side on the bed and they’ll begin. Mark tells him how the camera works, that it will release air into his colon to gently expand it to see better and that they’ll be looking for any abnormalities, polyps or growths. He assures Danny that he’ll barely feel anything. While Mark is all very matter of fact about it, Danny finds himself growing more and more anxious. He’s actually looking forward to the sedative if it means being calmer.

 

“My partner, Steve, is going to stay with me,” Danny says in a tone that brooks no argument.

 

“Sure, no problem,” Mark smiles, “It’s nice to meet you, Steve.”

 

Mark holds his hand out and Steve shakes it.

 

“Likewise,” Steve says, though Danny can tell he’s not being genuine. Danny doesn’t blame him, he’s not feeling too fond of Mark at the moment either, after the hell he’s just been through.

 

Mark leaves Danny to change and Steve offers to step out but Danny waves him off. Steve sees Danny dress and undress everyday, it’s not like privacy is an issue between them. Danny changes into the gown and grimaces at the open back which Steve helps him tie closed. Danny knows it makes perfect sense, they need access to his ass, after all, but it still makes him uncomfortable. Danny sits on the bed but doesn’t lie down and Steve stands next to him, his hand on Danny’s leg for comfort.

 

Mark comes back in with a nurse, a Hawaiian woman in her mid-thirties who reminds Danny enough of Kono to feel comfortable with her. They administer the sedative, an injection in his hand, and tell him it will take a few minutes to kick in and then they’ll start.

 

Gradually Danny finds himself becoming a little calmer and sleepy. Mark tells him to lie down with his back facing him and his legs drawn up and even the sedative can’t take away the spike in anxiety. Steve sits in a chair at Danny’s head and gives him a reassuring nod. If it weren’t for Steve, Danny’s not sure he would have been able to do this, might have run right out the door.

 

Danny jumps when the nurse undoes the bottom tie and exposes him.

 

“Sorry,” she says.

 

She drapes a blanket over him and pats him on the arm.

 

“Ok, Danny,” Mark says, “This may feel uncomfortable going in.”

 

Uncomfortable is a bit on an understatement considering all the raw, sore skin around there, but once the camera is actually in it isn’t as bad. The first few minutes Danny barely feels anything except a bit of pressure from the air and if he doesn’t think about the fact that there’s a camera up his ass it’s mostly alright. He catches Steve looking over Danny’s shoulder at the monitor currently showing Danny’s insides with a mixed look of fascination and distaste. Danny can googled colonoscopies during the week and seen pictures of the inside of the colon, and he can relate. Danny’s always been of the opinion the bodies are equally amazing as they are disgusting.

 

The pressure that Danny was feeling is morphing into an ache now and Danny wonders wonder what exactly Mark’s definition of not feeling anything actually encompasses and whether he should say something. The pain gets steadily worse and Danny reaches out for Steve, needing something to hold on to.

 

“Danny?” Steve asks, gripping Danny’s hand, “You alright.”

 

Danny shakes his head, afraid that he’ll moan if he speaks.

 

“Hey, Doc, I think something’s wrong,” Steve says.

 

“I’m about halfway done, it won’t be long,” Mark says, unconcerned, “Danny it may help if you pass wind.”

 

Danny curls around himself, hugging his stomach.

 

“Danny, you have to keep still,” Mark says sharply, then, talking to the nurse, “Nani, hold him still.”

 

Danny feels hands on him, holding tight.

 

“You need to do something to help him!” Steve yells, standing up like he’s ready to make the doctor stop by force.

 

“Fine, Nani, let’s push some painkillers,” Mark says.

 

Before Danny knows it he feels a pick and then everything starts going blurry and grey.

 

He wakes up an indeterminate time later, crying out, face wet with tears. His stomach still feels like it’s on fire and he’s sure he hears Steve’s voice before he blacks out again.

 

+

 

Danny wakes in a recovery room feeling sluggish and floaty. Danny glances around and sees Steve in a chair next to the bed. He’s got his elbows on his knees and his forehead resting on balled fists.

 

“Hey,” Danny whispers.

 

Steve jerks his head up and immediately reaches out for Danny.

 

“Babe,” Steve says, sighing with relief, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Um,” Danny licks his dry lips, “Kinda high.”

 

Steve smiles, “No pain?”

 

Danny thinks about it, remembering the mind numbing pain from before, “Nah.”

 

“Ok,” Steve says, smoothing a hand over Danny’s cheek, “That’s good.”

 

“Did you kill the doctor?” Danny asks, semi seriously.

 

“No,” Steve says with a grimace, “But I wanted to.”

 

“Me too,” Danny nods, “Water?”

 

“Oh,” Steve says, grabbing a glass off the table next to him, “Here.”

 

Danny drinks gratefully and the cool water helps wake him up a little.

 

“Thanks, babe,” Danny says when he’s done.

 

“I should probably find someone and tell them you’re awake,” Steve says, “See when we can spring you.”

 

“Yeah, that would be good,” Danny responds, “How long was I out for?”

 

“Only a couple hours,” Steve answers, then gets up to leave.

 

Steve comes back with Mark in tow.

 

“Welcome back, Danny, how are you feeling?” Mark asks.

 

“I’m ok now,” Danny says, feeling resentful.

 

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Mark says, “Your test was completely clear, nothing abnormal at all, so I’m happy to go ahead and prescribe you the medication for IBS.”

 

“What a surprise,” Danny says sarcastically. 

 

“Look, Danny, I’m sorry you went through that, the majority of people barely feel a thing,” Mark says, “You’ve one of the rare sufferers of IBS that have over-sensitive nerve endings.”

 

Danny doesn’t know what to say to that so he stays quiet. Of course he wanted the test to show up clear, but the knowledge that he went through it all for nothing, to just confirm what he already knew, really pisses him off. 

 

“I’ll get you your script and then you can leave,” Mark says, clearly sensing that Danny’s in no mood for further talk, “If you experience any abnormal pain or bleeding in the next 48 hours it is essential that you come back immediately.”

 

Danny nods and Mark leaves. Steve hands Danny his clothes and Danny dresses a little slower than normal. Mark comes back a short while later with a script for six months worth of medication.

 

“You can phone or email us for a renewal,” Mark says and Danny nods.

 

Steve talks to the receptionist about sending then the bill and then they leave. A few steps from the door Steve wraps both arms around Danny’s shoulders and hugs him tightly. He presses a kiss to Danny’s head.

 

“Let’s never do that again,” Steve says.

 

“I’m good with that,” Danny answers, voice muffled by Steve’s chest.

  
  



End file.
